


all yours, at the end of the day

by muse_apollo



Series: muse's ZsaszMask oneshots [5]
Category: Birds of Prey (And the Fantabulous Emancipation of One Harley Quinn) (2020), DC Extended Universe, The Batman (Movie 2021)
Genre: Jealousy, M/M, Oz and Zsasz are exes, Possessive Behavior, possessive roman
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-15
Updated: 2020-04-15
Packaged: 2021-03-01 18:01:24
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,574
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23671219
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/muse_apollo/pseuds/muse_apollo
Summary: Be on good behaviour with this one, Zsasz, I’m trying to close a deal.”“Course boss. When aren’t I?”Roman didn’t even bother to dignify that with an answer.Victor pulled his teeth back from his lips in some semblance of a smile, he knew that tone, Roman needed him to look intimidating, he could do that. Intimidating was his specialty.He caught a glimpse of the man as Roman led him through the crowd, only from the back. Tall, and broad shouldered, styled dark hair and a neat, pinstriped suit. One hand rested on the top of a cane, the top of it carved into the head of a bird. Not just a bird; a penguin.Fuck. Victor needed to be anywhere but where he was right now.“Mr. Cobblepot.” Roman’s voice was dripping with diplomacy.The smile had fallen off Victor’s lips, and now his mouth hung open just a little bit. Sure enough, he was face-to-face withOswald fucking Cobblepot for the first time in six years.ORThe one where Victor and Oswald are exes and Roman is a petty jealous little shit.
Relationships: Roman Sionis/Victor Zsasz, past Oswald Cobblepot/Victor Zsasz
Series: muse's ZsaszMask oneshots [5]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1639804
Comments: 12
Kudos: 182





	all yours, at the end of the day

**Author's Note:**

> uhhh... i wrote this before the trailers for The Batman dropped... and i was imagining colin farrel penguin as being kind of sexy... alas he is not (at least not to me, whatever floats your boat) but anyway i don't wanna delete it because i like the writing so i guess this is just a thing that exists in the universe now

It was a busy night at the Black Mask Club, so busy that Victor hadn’t seen all that much of Roman tonight, he’d disappeared into the crowd relatively early on to make his rounds. It was alright, Victor wasn’t the only security in the club, and Roman did this sometimes, he’d pop back up, probably asking Victor where he’d been all night with a sly grin.

No the problem wasn’t that he didn’t know where Roman was, the problem was that Victor was bored out of his fucking skull, although, to be fair, that was the direct result of not knowing where Roman was. 

He stood a ways off to the side, leaning against a pillar, slowly nursing a drink. He wondered if he’d have time to sneak out for a cigarette before Roman popped back up, but figured it was probably better not to risk it, Roman got snippy when Victor snuck away.

As if on cue, Roman appeared at his shoulder, seemingly from out of thin air. “There you are, I’ve been looking for you.” He caught Victor’s wrist. “Come on, there’s someone I want you to meet.”

Victor allowed himself to be pulled through the crowd by Roman’s grip. He bore his teeth, a sharp smile as Roman muttered to him. “Be on good behaviour with this one, Zsasz, I’m trying to close a deal.”

“Course boss. When aren’t I?” 

Roman didn’t even bother to dignify that with an answer.

Victor pulled his teeth back from his lips in some semblance of a smile, he knew that tone, Roman needed him to look intimidating, he could do that. Intimidating was his specialty.

He caught a glimpse of the man as Roman led him through the crowd, only from the back. Tall, and broad shouldered, styled dark hair and a neat, pinstriped suit. One hand rested on the top of a cane, the top of it carved into the head of a bird. Not just a bird; a penguin. 

_ Fuck.  _ Victor needed to be anywhere but where he was right now.

“Mr. Cobblepot.” Roman’s voice was dripping with diplomacy.

The smile had fallen off Victor’s lips, and now his mouth hung open just a little bit. Sure enough, he was face-to-face with Oswald fucking Cobblepot for the first time in six years. Their eyes locked, and Victor shook his head just slightly, a warning. The corners of Oswald’s mouth twitched up just slightly, but he said nothing. 

Roman continued on, completely oblivious. “I wanted to introduce you to my associate, this is-”

“Victor Zsasz, if I’m not mistaken.” Victor could feel Roman tense just slightly at the interruption.

He blinked, brow furrowing just a bit, glancing at Victor and back to Oswald. “Sorry, do you two know each other?”

Victor opened his mouth to say something, but Oswald interjected. “By reputation alone, your associate is quite accomplished.”

“That he is.” Roman looked pleased at the acknowledgement, his eyes crinkling behind those ridiculous orange-tinted sunglasses that he wore indoors for some reason. Oswald’s eyes had not just left Victor’s face, there was a question there. Of course, Roman hadn’t noticed yet, he was busy making himself the centre of attention, something which Victor found himself incredibly thankful for in that moment. “I thought that Mr. Zsasz here could be of some help with your little dilemma.”

Oswald grinned at that. “Could he now? Well as long as that wouldn’t be an imposition. I could use someone with his particular…” his eyes trailed over Victor, one eyebrow twitching upwards just slightly, “ _ skillset _ .”

It really was unbelievable that Roman still hadn’t caught on. 

“Perfect.” Roman’s hand came to rest on Victor’s lower back. “Why don’t we all find somewhere more quiet to talk, hmm? Hash things out?” 

“That sounds excellent.”

And that was how Victor found himself sitting between Oswald Cobblepot and Roman Sionis in a booth, silent while the two of them discussed plans on either side of him, trying not to radiate discomfort while he sipped his drink. Some kind of high stakes pick-up, with Victor being volunteered to assist in keeping Oswald safe. 

_ Just like old times _ . He thought but he didn’t say it out loud.

God this couldn’t get much worse, could it?

As if some higher power had read his fucking mind, there was very abruptly a ruckus on the other side of the club, something broken and a few shouts and gasps, and Roman tensed in his seat, his eyes darting to the calamity across the club. Victor wasn’t surprised when he caught a glimpse of pink and blue hair, fucking figured.

“Would you excuse me a moment?” Roman smiled with murder in his gaze, swallowing down the rest of his drink. “I need to go and deal with that.”

“Of course.” Oswald smiled politely.

Victor started to stand to follow, but Roman just put a gloved hand on his shoulder, stopping him. “It’s alright, Victor, I can deal with this myself.”

And then he was walking away across the club, and Victor could feel Oswald’s eyes burning holes in the side of his head.

“So,” he began when Roman was out of range, “Roman Sionis,huh? How’d that happen?”

“He pays well.” Victor looked sideways at Oswald, a warning in his gaze.

“Oh, is that  _ all _ ?”

Victor finally met his gaze, eyes narrowing a little bit, lips pulling up in a smirk. “Wouldn’t you like to know?”

“You didn't want him to know about our history. Why?"

Victor snorted. “It’s for your good as much as mine, trust me. Maybe more for yours.” He smiled, all teeth, over the rim of his glass. “He’s not big on sharing.”

“Really? Because he seemed pretty eager to offer you up just now.”

Victor didn’t bother to dignify that with a response, just took another sip of his drink.

“But seriously, Victor, while I’m glad to see you’ve done well for yourself, I can’t help but be a little confused about how we got here.”

Victor turned his gaze outward, to where Roman was still locked in a heated disagreement with what appeared to be a very wasted and very  _ manic _ Harley Quinn.

“What’s not to get?”

“How about the part where I went to jail for six months and by the time I got back you’d dropped off the fucking face of the earth?” His hand gripped Victor’s wrist, and Victor’s head snapped to one side, jaw clenching. “I don’t see you for six years and suddenly the first wind I catch is you’re working for this fucking clown? Come on, Vicky, I thought you were better than that.”

Victor slid his wrist away across the table, breaking the contact, his top lip curling with the hint of a snarl. “Watch yourself, Oz. You’re on thin fucking ice.”

Oswald chuckled, leaning closer, speaking low against Victor’s ear. “I usually am.”

Victor squeezed his eyes shut for a moment, taking a long swallow of his drink. When he opened them again it was to the sight of Roman watching him across the club, his eyes two narrow chips of ice.

_ Fuck. _

Roman was stalking back across the club, his lips were pulled up in a tight smile, but underneath that, Victor could see his rage. “Sorry about that, Miss Quinn appears to have started a small fire in a glass, she does keep me on my toes.” His gaze turned to Victor, “Everything alright over here?” He slid into the booth, this time one arm lay across the back of the booth seat, slipping casually around Victor’s shoulders.

“Yeah, boss. All good.”

Roman wasn’t looking at him though, his gaze was locked on Oswald, eyes cold behind his tailored smile.

“Of course. Victor and I were just getting into the more gritty details of planning, he’s  _ truly _ twisted, this one.”

Roman tensed just a bit at the familiarity there. “Well, I’m glad to see you’re getting along.”

“Oh,  _ very _ well.”

Roman’s hand tightened around the glass in his hand, any harder and Victor thought the glass might break in his hand. He placed a hand on Roman’s knee under the table, squeezing it reassuringly.

Roman met his gaze, he looked a little less murderous, but there was still a fit brewing there, but Victor had helped delay it, at least until they were out of the public sphere. His arm stayed firmly wrapped around Victor’s shoulders, a marker of possession.

“You’ve got a nice place here, Mr. Sionis.” Oswald smiled deviously over the rim of his glass. “Interesting choice in decor, it’s a bit eccentric, but it certainly cultivates an aesthetic.”

“It’s important to have a brand.” Roman replied smoothly, just the right amount of venom lingering under his tone, his gaze swept over Oswald lips pulling up in a smirk. “I have mine, just as you have yours.”

Oswald pressed his lips together, cocking his head just slightly to one side. “You really should come see my club some night. It’s a similar space to this, a bit more square footage though.”

“Sounds lovely.” Roman spoke through gritted teeth.

Victor took another sip of his drink, it was gonna be a long fucking night.

*****

By the time they got upstairs, Roman was fuming, muttering to himself as they made their way to the elevator. Victor caught snippets of it, certain choice phrases about Oswald’s weight, something about his nose. As soon as they got into the elevator Victor found himself being shoved back against the wall. Roman’s hand on his chest holding him firmly in place.

“What the hell was all that?”

“All what?”

Roman crowded even closer to him, holding him up against the wall, his lip curling up in a snarl. “Don’t play dumb with me, Zsasz, you know exactly what the fuck I’m talking about. You think I’m blind?”

Victor sighed. “It really wasn’t what it looked like.”

“Then what the  _ fuck  _ was it?”

“I used to work for him, before I met you.”

“Is that  _ all _ ?” The unintentional echo of Oswald’s words earlier in the club almost made him laugh. “Because it seemed like a bit fucking more than that.”

They reached the apartment above the club and the elevator door opened but neither of them moved. “It was six fucking years ago, Roman.” He licked his lips. “That back there, he was just trying to get under my skin.”

"Well, did it work?"

" _No_." That wasn’t entirely true, but he didn’t need to tell Roman the whole truth, not when the whole truth would only worsen his mood. 

“Why didn’t you tell me about this before now?”

“Honestly? Because it didn’t fuckin’ matter.” Victor smiled toothily at him. “ _He_ doesn’t fuckin’ matter.”

Roman watched him carefully, finally stepping back, letting Victor off the elevator wall. “Does  _ he  _ know that?”

“If he didn’t before he sure does now.”

“ _ Good _ .” They finally stepped out of the elevator and into the apartment, Roman pacing, pulling his gloves off as he spoke, tossing them down on the coffee table with an uncharacteristic carelessness. “He should know better than to put his fucking hands on you. He should know you’re fucking  _ mine _ .” Roman approached then, one finger hooking into Victor’s belt loop to pull him in, the other grabbing him by his throat. “People don’t touch my things without my permission.”

“I know.”

“I could  _ kill _ him.”

“Bad for business." Victor shook his head.

“I know but I  _ want _ to.” Roman all but pouted. “I’m not gonna, of course, but it’s a nice thought.” He paused, meeting Victor’s gaze with narrowed eyes. “Would you do it for me? If I asked?”

“Without hesitation.”

Roman dragged Victor forwards into a kiss, teeth sinking into Victor’s lower lip with nearly enough force to draw blood. “Now why don’t we go to bed and you can remind me just who it is you belong to, hmm?”

*****

Later they were laying in bed, and Roman was watching him across the pillow curiously. “So, how’d it end.”

Victor chuckled. “It really bothers you, doesn’t it?”

“Shut up, answer the fucking question.”

Victor rolled his eyes. “Alright.” A pause. “We were working together, or, I was working  _ for  _ him, I guess. Got a bit too much heat. They caught him, not me. He went away, and while he was locked up, I met someone else. Moved on.”

“Someone else, huh?” Roman raised an eyebrow. “Who might that be?”

“You know the answer to that.”

“I do.” He broke out in a smug grin. “That explains why he was so irritable. I mean, I’m obviously the superior choice. Just look at me, I’m  _ leagues _ above him.”

“I am looking.” It was a bit too sappy but Roman let it slide. “You’re not gonna back out on this deal because of me, are you?”

“What?” Roman frowned. “No, of course not. I’m a professional, Victor. I’m not gonna rescind my word over some silly lover’s spat.”

There was a condition there, he was sure of it. “But?”

“But nothing. I’m just gonna make sure that when he sees you, he can tell  _ exactly _ who you belong to.”

Victor licked his lips. “Sure thing, boss.”

*****

As it turned out, Roman’s solution to the problem was a really fucking petty one. The night before Victor went to assist Oswald, he pinned Victor down and covered his neck with hickeys; so many hickeys in fact that it hurt to turn his fucking head.

The next morning, he looked at himself in the mirror, tipping his head to one side, prodding at the marks with a finger. “Don’t you think you overdid it just a bit?” 

Roman slipped up behind him, his arms wrapping around Victor’s waist, meeting his gaze in the mirror. “No.” He smiled, tongue darting out to wet his lips. “Actually, I see space for one more…”

“For fuck’s sake, Roman.” Victor turned in his arms, hands catching at his chest. “I’m pretty sure he’ll get the message.”

Roman leaned in close, lips brushing against Victor’s as he did. “He fucking  _ better _ .”

*****

The drop went over about as fucking well as it could have, really. Oswald had been right about it being a set-up, not that Victor could say he was surprised.

It was a clean fucking massacre though, Victor nearly completely unscathed. People had a tendency to underestimate him, it made sense, since he was only one man. After he’d killed everyone, he stood in the centre of it all, wiping a spot of blood off his cheek. Behind him, he could hear the click of Oswald’s wingtips on the concrete warehouse floor. “Nice job. Kinda like old times, don’t you think?” A hand clapped down on Victor’s shoulder, squeezing. “How many was that?”

“Eight.”

Oswald stepped around so he was facing Victor, leaning close. “You’re still so fucking gorgeous, you know that?” Oswald’s eyes swept down over the length of Victor’s neck, taking in the bruises there. “Real possessive bastard, isn’t he?”

“You don’t know the half of it.”

A smile tugged at his lips. “I see you’ve added to your collection.” One hand reached up, moving towards the scar on Victor’s throat. “Does he know how many of these are mine?”

Victor caught his wrist, gripping it hard, stopping Oswald’s hand before he could touch him. “Stop.”

“Something the matter, darling?”

“None of them are  _ yours _ , Oz.  _ I  _ killed them, remember?”

“That’s not what I meant.” He tried to pull his hand away, but Victor’s grip was still like a vice.

“I know what you meant, I’m just reminding you that nothing about me is fucking yours.”

Oswald’s smile was bitter when it came. “You’re that loyal to him, huh?” He finally pried his hands out of Victor’s grip. “I must admit, I haven’t been completely honest with you.”

“Care to elaborate?”

“Well, I wasn’t exactly… surprised to find you where I did.”

Victor frowned. “So, that’s what all of this was about then?” Roman wouldn’t like that if he found out. Roman hated anything that wasn’t about him directly.

“Is it unreasonable to want closure? You vanished off the face of the fucking earth, Victor. I’m just trying to figure out why.” 

Victor shrugged. “Alright, ask your questions then.” He just wanted to get this over with.

“Why him?”

Victor couldn’t help the crooked smile that pulled at his lips. “We have a lot in common, him and I. More than you and I ever did.”

“So he’s also a complete fucking psychopath, is he?”

Victor grit his teeth at that. “Watch it.”

“I’m kidding.” He clearly wasn’t, but Victor didn’t press the matter. “You’d do anything for him, wouldn’t you?”

“I think we both know what you’re really asking.” Victor smirked. “The answer’s yes, by the way. I would. But Roman doesn’t want you dead; hence, you aren’t.”

Oswald looked more than a bit taken aback by that, stepped back. “So that’s it then?”

“What were you expecting?”

Oswald shook his head. “Nothing, I guess.”

“You’re not gonna back out of this deal because of me, are you?”

Oswald pressed his lips together, looking more than a little bitter. “No, Victor.” He smiled like a shark. “I remember my loyalties.”

Victor didn’t bother to dignify that with a response. It did sting a little, but still, at the end of the day, he’d be going home to Roman Sionis, and what the fuck did Oz have? Fuck all, that was what. 

*****

Arriving back at the penthouse, Victor was greeted by a rather substantial mess; the sort of mess which was, generally speaking, the result of one of Roman’s uncontrolled tantrums. There was glass on the floor, and a few shattered plates, and one of the end tables had been upturned. He frowned, glancing around before he caught what he was looking for. There, sitting on the couch in the centre of the room, dressed in silk pyjamas, a drink in his hand, and a cigarette between his teeth, was Roman. And he was absolutely fucking fuming.

“Alright boss?” Victor asked as he stepped out of the elevator. 

“You’re late!” Roman snapped. “You didn’t answer my calls!”

“Shit.” Victor pulled out his phone. “I turned it off. I always do when I’m working.” 

“When you’re working for  _ me _ .” Roman retorted. “What if there’d been an emergency?”

Victor opened his mouth to reply but Roman hurled a pillow at him. Victor sidestepped it with ease, predicting the action. “I’m sorry.” He started to walk across the room, moving slow; cautious in his approach. “I didn’t think.”

“No, you fucking  _ didn’t _ .” Roman took a long pull of his cigarette. “I could fucking  _ kill  _ you.” 

“I know.” Roman was pacing now, Victor pursed his lips, moving closer. “ _ Roman _ .” His tone was clear, and harsh, demanding attention. “Look at me.”

Roman did, his eyes were like flint; cold, calculating, vicious. “ _ What _ ?”

“I'm right here, aren’t I?” He smiled softly. “Not a scratch on me. I came back… to  _ you. _ ”

Roman looked up at him, and Victor realized to some surprise, that Roman looked close to the verge of tears. “You vanished on him. What’s to stop you disappearing on me?”

Victor caught Roman’s arms, stilling him, pulling him close, looking up to meet his gaze. “ _ For _ you. I’d never disappear on you, Roman. Besides, even if I did, you wouldn’t let me get away with it."

“I’d peel your fucking skin off.” Roman snarled. “Wouldn’t let anyone else do it either. I’d do it my fucking self.”

Victor felt a swell of affection in his chest. Roman _ never _ killed anyone with his own hands. “Would you really?” The tone was damn near flirtatious.

Roman was still frowning. “What if I asked you to? What if I told you to leave and never come back?”

Victor was quiet for a long moment, then he spoke with as much honesty as he could. “It’d be a lot harder to get rid of me than that.” He said finally. There was something almost threatening beneath the tone.

“ _ Good _ .” Roman growled. “That’s what I wanted to hear.” He stepped forwards, one hand coming up to rest on Victor’s throat. “He got the message, did he?” His gaze trailed over the bruises on Victor’s neck.

“Sure fuckin’ did, boss.”

Roman’s hand tightened on his neck, pulling him into a rough kiss. Victor kissed him back, hand tangling in the back of Roman’s hair, holding tugging roughly. Roman stepped back, his lip curling with distaste. “You stink like shit.”

Victor laughed. “I’ll go take a shower.” 

“Mmm.” Roman smiled at him, sharp. “I’ll pour you a drink, meet me in the bedroom after your done. I can help you with your marks.” 

“Alright.”

“How many was it today?” 

“Eight.”

“Busy were you?” It was rhetorical. “Now seriously, go wash yourself you're disgusting.” He pushed at Victor’s chest. 

Victor turned away, making his way towards the bathroom. “And use fucking soap! I’ll know if you don’t.”

Victor rolled his eyes, safe in the knowledge that Roman couldn’t see his expression. All things considered, he knew he’d made the right decision. Sure Roman could be a bit of a bitch, a high maintenance, jealous little shit from time to time, but at the end of the day, he wasn’t more trouble than he was worth. At least not where Victor was concerned.

It wasn’t conventional to be fair, but he’d never been much interested in conventional. The two of them were so far above that shit anyway.


End file.
